Numb
by InvisibleBlade
Summary: His words were like spitting acid. He expected her to find her own way out. He wanted her to change the future. He wanted her to make the tough decision for once.He was expecting her to do exactly what he did on a daily basis. He was expecting her to play God.


**DISCLAIMER: I do not own**

**A/N: Very loosely based on the song 'Numb' by Linkin Park. You don't have to listen to the song but you can if you want to.**

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The clasp of the angel tightened around her wrist. Escape was impossible. Either her husband breaks her wrist or breaks the angel's wrist. Apparently thanks to her mother reading her future it had to be hers. There had to be another way though. There just had to be. It wasn't as if her wrist would just nip back together. She couldn't heal herself. She'd given all of her regeneration energy to The Doctor back in Berlin.

Then her mother had the clever idea of reading the chapter titles. That was fine, and actually quite helpful in leaning the location of her father.

However a second after she had left to rescue him her husband had that face on. That face that told her the universe was burning to the ground around him and that there was nothing that he could do about it. She hated that face. That face meant only one thing. The Timelord victorious part of her husband would bubble to his surface any minute now.

And there it was. The fury. The anger. The self loathing. His true colours shone brightly in front of her.

He turned to her. His internal blaze ran from his bottomless eyes straight into her soul. He was broken. Locked away in unbreakable chains that even she couldn't release him from.

His words were like spitting acid. He expected her to find her own way out. He wanted her to change the future. He wanted her to make the tough decision for once.

It was as though he was blaming her for something she hadn't even done yet.

What was he expecting her to do? What did he want from her?

River closed her eyes. The faith she usually put in The Doctor slipped away deep beneath her surface.

He was expecting her to do exactly what he did on a daily basis. He was expecting her to play God.

Closing her eyes she felt herself freeze up inside until she couldn't feel anything. She was numb.

However that didn't stop her screams as she snapped her wrist in half.

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She shuddered as he told her mother just how brilliant she was. She wasn't brilliant. She just happened to be extremely talented at hiding the damage he created.

However as he grabbed her hand as he always did when they ran hand in hand she couldn't stop the automatic whimper escaping her lips as a hot pain seared through her.

He lightly fondled her bloodied wrist. He looked so disappointed in her. He asked her why she lied. She couldn't tell him. It seemed every step that she takes is just another mistake to him lately.

Storming out into the cold night she finally let her shields down. Here she didn't have to keep up her façade.

After chatting to her mother for a while she managed to slip her mask back into place.

Sitting within inches of her husband she felt his tender hands brush against her wrist.

She told him what it was like to be in love with him. How it felt to be so attached to a person that was so destructive.

In return he wasted part of his valuable life to fix her wrist.

This was what it was always like. He'd turn on her, and not of his own fault he ended up hurting her. Then once the damage was done he'd go all soppy, and sentimental on her. In fact it felt like he was smothering her with his own self-hatred. In truth that's exactly what he was doing. He just didn't know that.

She could hardly breathe.

His arm was around her. He was squeezing her waist. He was holding onto her far too tightly.

It was as though he was worried that she was slipping away from him. He was afraid of losing his control on her. That powerful control that he didn't even know he had on her. She was like putty in his hands. Like a puppet on strings. He knew exactly which ones to pull.

She slapped him.

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River was typing on the old fashioned type writer. She was writing the last chapter of her parent's story. It clicked away slowly, with an unnerving high pitched ping as she entered each full stop.

"River." His voice was hollow, and guilt ridden.

"Don't." She looked up at him, "Just don't." She stopped him before he could say what she knew he was going to say.

She felt his presence above her, "I don't blame you." She whispered.

It wasn't his fault. None of it was.

Once upon a time The Doctor had been just like her with someone disappointing him. What happened to the boy made the man.

He sat beside her and kissed her on the forehead, "I'm sorry." He apologised. He needn't have. She always forgave him.

Stopping momentarily she turned to him, "Me too my love. " She whispered, "Me too."

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